Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters.

Author's note: You guys must think I'm a total nerd, writing these so much, but I'm inspired and my sick 3 year old is keeping me indoors. Thanks for reading. Oh, and comments are SO appreciated, so if you want me to stop writing, don't send any!

Chapter 7

"Yo, Montana," Danny found Lindsay sitting in the break room nursing a cup of coffee before she headed out for her first case.

She smiled. "Hey Danny. What's up?" It had been a few weeks since their "big talk," and little by little, the tension was easing. Lindsay was relieved. She missed their banter, and the fact of the matter was, they liked each other too much to keep up the overly polite atmosphere that had sprouted between them.

"I gotta head over to Hell's Kitchen with Mac. Someone found a bum upside down in a trash can. Probably a fight over his shopping cart or something."

"Yeah, well, have fun with that," Lindsay said, giving him a wink. Just then Hawkes rounded the corner.

"Lindsay, we have what looks like a burglary/murder over on 24th and Madison. Flack's already headed over," he said. She nodded and got up to find her kit. It was nice to hear of Flack at a scene - he had been tied to desk duty when he was first back.

"See ya, Danny."

He nodded and Lindsay joined Hawkes. Later, as they were walking toward his van, he said, "I'm glad you and Danny seem to be getting along better."

"Getting along better? When were we not getting along?"

"Well, you seemed to be getting along too well, I guess. All those pleases and thank yous. We were all beginning to wonder about you two."

Lindsay felt a blush creep up. "Sheldon, Danny's had a rough time of it. I think what you're seeing is him just returning to the obnoxious Danny we all know and love."

He chuckled. "You're probably right. Who would have thought we'd miss him?"

Lindsay smiles. I did.

Half and hour later, they pulled up to The Medicine Shoppe, a small, independent pharmacy. It was hectic - the traffic was whizzing by, and the music store nearby blared the latest and greatest from outdoor speakers. Flack was waiting for them outside.

"Rodgers arrived about an hour ago, secured the scene," he nodded at a young, uniformed officer nearby. The guy, who looked like a former high school football lineman gone to seed, quickly averted his gaze from Lindsay's rear. "Gary Reynolds, the pharmacist, is inside, behind the counter. It looks like his head was bashed in. There's a broken window in the back room, off the alley. We think that's how the perp got in. The place has been ransacked - probably someone looking for drugs."

"Great," Lindsay and Hawkes said at the same time. They smiled at each other - they were becoming good friends.

Once inside, Hawkes began his examination of the victim. "Looks like this might be our murder weapon." He indicated a heavy marble mortar and pestle set nearby. The bowl had what appeared to be matted hair and blood on it.

Lindsay noticed blood on the floor leading toward the back. The bloody splotches - likely left by the killer's feet as he fled - ran back through the room to the corner. Lindsay took pictures along with way for documentation. Finally she noticed they stopped against the wall, next to a ladder. Probably the attic, she thought. Closer inspection revealed blood on the rungs as well. Lindsay slung her bag and camera over her shoulder and began to climb. Once at the top, she pulled herself into what looked like a storage room. She was looking around for more blood when suddenly movement in the corner of the room caught her eye. Before she could react, a wild-haired man with grungy, blood-stained clothes jumped out, smacking her hard across the face.

She landed hard on some wooden boxes, and leaped to her feet. She opened her mouth to shout when the man, likely fueled by drugs, grabbed her by her throat, slamming her against the wall. Spots swam before her eyes as she struggled to breath. Fighting through the haze, she began kicking her legs at him while her hands clawed at his grip. But the man seemed to feel no pain.

Just when she thought she was going to lose consciousness, Hawkes burst through the trap door, followed closely by Flack. Hawkes tackled the man, and Lindsay fell to the ground, coughing. By the time she regained some composer, the man was handcuffed and Flack was giving him a swift kick to the ribs. "Son of a BITCH!" he yelled.

Hawkes was soon at Lindsay's side. "Are you okay?" She nodded, but immediately started coughing again. Then she groaned, grabbing at the pain that shot through the side she landed on when he hit her. "C'mon, were going to take you to the hospital to get checked out." Flack had already herded the man downstairs.

When they reached the lower floor, Lindsay quickly assured Hawkes she was fine. After he expertly checked her over, including her side for any possible rib fractures, he agreed that she could help him finish processing. Flack, meanwhile, had sent the suspect with one of the other cruisers and was berating Rodgers.

"I thought you said the place was secure!"

"I'm sorry Detective! I didn't even see the ladder. I figured the guy went back out the window!"

"Yeah, whatever, just keep everybody back." A crowd had gathered, further impeding traffic. Flack walked over to Lindsay. "Hey, you okay?" She nodded, and noticed his eyes darken as he glanced down at her neck. "Son of the bitch," he said again. Lindsay couldn't see, but finger-shaped bruises had already started to appear on her neck.

Hawkes was not too pleased either. "I have to document these injuries, Lindsay. We'll nail the guy for this as well as murder." Lindsay sighed, but allowed him to photograph her. Later, she peeked at herself in the mirror. "Crap," was all she could say when she observed the bruising on her neck and her abraded cheek.

By the end of the day, they had the guy - Russell Phillips, a known crackhead and drug connoisseur - booked on murder and assault on a police officer with oodles of evidence to back them up. Lindsay had been fussed over enough to last her a lifetime. Stella, Sally in reception, Flack, who kept coming to check on her, and everyone else. Even Hammerbeck was concerned.

Stella popped her head in the locker room. "Hey Linds, Mac wants to see you."

Lindsay groaned inwardly. She was touched by everyone's concern, but she'd had enough for the day, and just wanted to go home. Mac had his back to her and was talking on the phone when she went in his office and shut the door. He said good-bye to whoever he was talking to and turned to face her. Immediately, his eyes narrowed dangerously, and he walked over to get a closer look. Lindsay almost took a step back. Even when it wasn't directed at her, Mac Taylor's anger was a bit frightening. "Are you okay?" his voice low and dark. It was probably the 50th time she'd been asked that question, but it was more sinister coming from Mac. Phillips better thank his lucky stars he's already in holding, she thought.

"I'm fine, Mac."

"Okay, well, you take the rest of the day off. Relax. Oh, and Officer Rodgers is going to be officially reprimanded."

"Mac, that's not necessary - "

"Lindsay, you could have been killed. I can't allow that to happen. We rely on these guys to keep us safe so we can do our jobs. Now go home. I'll see you tomorrow."

She nodded gratefully, went to the locker room, grabbed her stuff and headed to her car. A bath, soft music and a good book were in her immediate future. She also needed to decompress - she tried not to show it, but Phillips had scared the crap out of her. Lindsay had never felt so small and vulnerable. Wimpy, she thought to herself, damning the tears that threatened to slip down her cheeks. She hadn't felt that powerless since her father was alive.

"Montana!" Lindsay proceeded to load her things into the car, tempted to avoid Danny. She just wanted to go home.

"Hey! Lindsay!" Danny grabbed her shoulder as she rounded the car to the driver's side. She finally turned to look at him, and averted her eyes and she heard him suck in a sharp breath. She tried to pull away but he placed his hand gently under her chin, lifting it. "Jesus," he said, eyes clouded, as he gently touched the tender area of her neck.

"Really Danny, I'm okay," she said, voice breaking as she tried to turn away before the tears fell.

"Yeah, and I have a fluffy white beard and slip down chimneys with lots of presents at Christmas. C'mere," he said gruffly, pulling her toward him. Resistant at first, Lindsay finally allowed herself into his embrace, resting her head on his chest as the tears finally slipped down her cheeks.

"I'm going to kick Rodgers ass," he growled, his voice a contrast to the gentle hand that caressed her hair. "If he hadn't focused so much on yours instead of the crime scene, this never woulda happened."

Lindsay felt a chuckle bubble up and she pulled back. "It's cute, all you guys beating your chest to protect your little female coworker."

Danny smiled a moment before his eyes rested on hers again, serious now. "You're more than just a coworker to me, you know that."

They stared at each other a moment, then stepped away at the sound of voices nearby. As the group came and went, Lindsay collected herself. "I better get home." Danny nodded, and opened her car door.

"You take care, Montana."

Lindsay climbed inside and looked up at him before she started her car. "Sure. Oh, and Danny?" He raised his eyebrows questioningly. "Thanks." He grinned. "Anytime, Lindsay," he said, shutting her door.

As she drove home, the conversation played in her mind. He called her Lindsay twice. He really seems to care, she thought before pushing the thought from her mind, reminding himself that they were just friends, coworkers. But that stubborn voice in the back of her mind wouldn't stay quiet. Maybe he cares more than you think.

Lindsay had just finished toweling off from a relaxing bath when her sister Beth called. "I just had a bad feeling," she said. Lindsay couldn't help but smile at that. The two always seemed to be connected, even though her sister was miles away in Montana working on her physical therapy degree.

Knowing her sister would see through her lies, she gave her an abbreviated version of what happened and assured her she was fine and that Phillips was in jail.

"I'm glad you're OK, Lindsay. I couldn't deal if something happened to you. At least you've got those hunky guys watching over you. Hey, what about Danny? I'll bet they had to hold him back from killing the guy."

Beth was the only person she had told of her conflicted feelings for Danny. "He was concerned, they all were. We're a close team."

"Yeah, I'm sure that's it. Tell me exactly what he said." Sighing, Lindsay proceeded to tell her sister about the parking lot incident.

"Oh, Linds! Can't you see he cares about you! You have to see that! You're always pushing people away, and if you keep doing it, you're going to end up alone, and you deserve better."

"Listen, Beth, I'm not going to force myself on him. We're friends, that's all."

"Yeah, right. Just be sure and wear something cute instead of that dowdy stuff at that party this weekend."

The party - she had almost forgotten. NYPD was hosting a huge party for their precinct in a local park, complete with baseball games during the day and a deejay and dance floor for the evening, plus all the food they could eat.

"Whatever, Beth. I have to get to bed," she said. The two exchanged I love yous and Lindsay crawled gratefully beneath her covers. Before drifting off to sleep, one last thought drifted through her head. What am I going to wear?